


No Looking Back

by schemingreader



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Divorce, Infidelity, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-07
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 02:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schemingreader/pseuds/schemingreader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A man in his late 30s--all right, a man pushing forty--is not someone that people watch at a gay bar. Even a physically fit man of forty with green eyes and black hair, a bit grey at the temples, isn't as interesting as someone young. There were other older men there, too--all different ages and shapes. There was a stocky man with curly hair and a sweet smile, a taller man--not difficult as Harry wasn't very tall--men with ginger beards and short hair, men with long hair, men with--bodies. Harry could barely believe he was there.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. People Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man in his late 30s--all right, a man pushing forty--is not someone that people watch at a gay bar. Even a physically fit man of forty with green eyes and black hair, a bit grey at the temples, isn't as interesting as someone young. There were other older men there, too--all different ages and shapes. There was a stocky man with curly hair and a sweet smile, a taller man--not difficult as Harry wasn't very tall--men with ginger beards and short hair, men with long hair, men with--bodies. Harry could barely believe he was there.

**People Watching**

 

 

A man in his late 30s--all right, a man pushing forty--is not someone that people watch at a gay bar. Even a physically fit man of forty with green eyes and black hair, a bit grey at the temples, isn't as interesting as someone _young_. There were other older men there, too--all different ages and shapes. There was a stocky man with curly hair and a sweet smile, a taller man--not difficult as Harry wasn't very tall--men with ginger beards and short hair, men with long hair, men with--bodies. Harry could barely believe he was there.

 

He'd read it was a wild place. It didn't seem to be--it looked like an ordinary public house or watering hole. No special decorations, and the men weren't particularly queer-looking. He was a bit relieved, actually. He didn't think his heart could take it if he had to approach a man in the first fifteen minutes.

 

He'd never approached anyone to have sex in his life. In school, he'd had two girlfriends and he'd married the second one. He'd always liked having sex with her, but had never initiated it. Something about never being kissed or hugged from the time he was a toddler until puberty made him a little weird about sex. It was easy for him to love people, easy to enjoy being kissed and hugged, but difficult to do that sort of thing. It was probably why he loved Albus Severus the most of his children--the cuddliness of him. He was just a more touchy personality than James and Lily, more likely to crawl into Harry's lap. Harry could never ask the children to be close to him, but he loved to feel their small solid weight next to him.

 

"Way to get the old libido going, Potter," he thought, "think about the children." He was probably too old for this. He was someone's dad!

 

All the way into middle age, and he'd never made it with a man. How had Ginny even known he was gay? It must be a witch thing. Or maybe she hadn't known and just wanted to insult him when she was leaving. He did like men, though. He'd checked out the other men in Auror training, even way back at Hogwarts after Quidditch practice, but he thought nobody had noticed that. He was constantly checking out other men's packets, even in school.

 

He'd even noticed that Snape had been hung like a donkey. No wonder the man wore voluminous robes. The one time Harry'd seen him in a nightshirt he'd been blown away. Of course at the time he'd been disappointed, because when he was a teenager he'd thought of a large prick as a reward that only people he'd liked deserved to have.

 

Now of course, Snape was long dead, he was the age Snape had been and he rather hero-worshipped him, in retrospect. Also, now that he was honest with himself about how he felt about them, he was perfectly happy for _any_ man to have a large penis. If only the thought of it didn't make him so uncharacteristically shy. It was perfectly easy to fight someone or arrest them, but to chat someone up and get them into bed?

 

When he was already half-hard under the bar, considering it?

 

It just seemed too challenging.

 

But he was Harry Potter. He had a track record of facing certain death, fighting dragons and dark lords--what were a few gay Muggle men?

 

He put up a finger for the barman and ordered a whiskey, neat. The barman was tall, with salt and pepper hair. He was wearing a black turtleneck and didn't spend much time looking at Harry. He was older, but very physically fit. Harry noticed how his waist tapered to his arse.

 

Harry supposed that all the men at the bar worked out at the gym. He tugged at his jacket. He looked a right prat, sitting on the pub stool, oggling everyone including the barman, who might have been someone's old dad. If someone's old dad had a fantastic physique, that is. Too bad he kept turning away from Harry so that Harry couldn't see his face.

 

Some of the other men got up to dance, and Harry stopped worrying about how awkward _he_ looked. He could hardly look sillier than these men dancing to old George Michael hits from the 1980s. They were not good dancers. Even he and Ron could do better.

 

Then he forgot to worry about the dancing, since it seemed that the music was just an excuse to snog and grope on the dance floor. Harry sat looking, forgetting to hide his interest, as the four couples who were up were joined by a fifth. The men closest to him were just kissing, their mouths open, tongues touching. On the other side of the floor, there was a man with his hands down the back of his partner's trousers. His flies were open, that's how there was room for the hands. He was kneading and squeezing the other man's buttocks.

 

Then they turned and Harry could see that the man with his flies down was exposed in the front. The head of his prick was peeping out of his y-fronts.

 

"I like it better when they don't wear underwear," a low voice said in his ear. Hands came to either side of his face to redirect his head to what he'd been watching. "Oh no," said the voice, "I don't mean to interrupt."

 

Another man dropped to his knees, right on the floor. He began nuzzling his partner's crotch with his clothing on. Harry was very hard. Was he going to--

 

"Yes," said the voice behind him, as the kneeling man unzipped the other man's flies. The head of the exposed prick practically hit him in the eye. "That's right," the voice buzzed in his ear, "suck him." He was rubbing Harry's shoulders and back now, and the touch, the undemanding, friendly touch, was a welcome relief. Harry wanted to purr, like a cat. He kept watching. There was a threesome in the corner--a man bent forward at the waist to suck someone's cock, with his arse exposed to another man who was sticking fingers in his bum.

 

The person behind Harry had bent down and was kissing his neck. His aftershave smelled delicious. Harry cautiously leaned back, so that his head rested on the other man's shoulder, but he didn't stop watching the action. The man in the middle was down on all fours, being penetrated from behind. Harry could see the slow way the man fucking him pushed in; he could see the man getting fucked shaking with the intensity of it.

 

The man behind Harry had a hard-on. His waist was pressed against Harry as he reached down and around to stick his hands in Harry's shirt without blocking his view. He pinched Harry's nipples, and Harry felt his hard cock pressing against his spine through his jacked and the man's jeans.

 

"Would you like to be fucked like that?" the dark voice said.

 

"Right now?" Harry said.

 

"Right now, you won't last," the other said, "You're going to come in my hand," he said, unzipping Harry's flies. He bent again and licked Harry's ear, and breathed into it, and Harry's hips thrust off the barstool. The man got his hand around Harry's erection. "Look at them fuck," he whispered. He was fisting Harry up and down, his thumb going over the head of Harry's hard cock. It was slow torture, it was wonderful--it didn't feel like touching his own cock. Harry couldn't move except to writhe.

 

"Fuck," Harry repeated. He was going to come. His eyes were shut and he was leaning back onto the shoulder of the standing man behind him.

 

"Look at them fuck, Harry Potter," and Harry turned, and it _was_ Snape, savage, alive, looking into his eyes as they rolled up helplessly in his head, his orgasm too strong to be stopped by the surprise of it.

 

"Snape," he gasped, "You're alive, ah!" pleasure thrumming through every nerve as the man kept stroking him, milking him. He shot like a teenager, his whole body shuddering, the come pooling on his stomach, and the barman kept jerking him.

 

Snape took his hand out of Harry's pants, and licked Harry's come off his fingers. "Will wonders never cease," he said.


	2. A Second Look

**A Second Look**

 

 

Severus straightened. Harry Potter looked both debauched and stunned, sitting on a barstool with his trousers open and his cock out. Severus' touch had done that, had made Harry Potter come.

 

"I can't believe you're alive," Potter said. "I didn't know it was you."

 

"I can't believe you allowed a strange man to touch your genitals," Severus said. He opened the door to the bar and jerked his head toward the storeroom behind it. "Fasten your trousers," he advised, and Potter got even redder in the face than before. Severus did not look behind him; Potter followed him.

 

"I thought you were dead," Potter said again. "I saw you die. Did you know I was coming? Where's the real barman?"

 

"I'm the real barman, you fool," Severus said. "Where's the real _auror_, eh? I was sure you'd finally found me and had come after me."

 

"Nice greeting," Potter said. He was looking Snape up and down.

 

"Glad you enjoyed it."

 

Potter stood there, licking his lips and blushing. "How--how did you survive?"

 

"No."

 

"No?"

 

"Work it out for yourself."

 

"Hermione always wondered why you hadn't taken anti-venin potions, especially since we all knew what had happened with Ron's dad in the Department of Mysteries, and perhaps Draught of the Living Death...."

 

"_Must_ you work it out for yourself _now_? It happened twenty years ago, and we do have some unfinished business that is a bit more recent." Severus began to unbutton his jeans. _He_ wore boxer shorts underneath, which he pushed down his thighs. Potter looked at him like he was a lolly, but didn't touch.

 

"I...I've never been to one of these places, and..."

 

"What do you want?"

 

Harry Potter looked utterly helpless. "I want...I..."

 

Severus stooped a little and kissed him. Potter made a noise and opened his mouth, and Severus felt his tongue. Lovely. He broke the kiss and held Potter's chin, the better to look into his eyes. "What do you want?"

 

"Can I suck you?" Severus exhaled and nodded. Potter bent at the waist and licked the head of Severus' cock, and then did it again. "Sorry, I think I have to get..." he said, and knelt. He looked up with the first apologetic expression Severus had ever seen on his face. "Am I allowed to use my hands?"

 

"It's not football, Potter."

 

Potter laughed shakily and then took as much of Severus as he could into his mouth and sucked. Then he started to try to bob his head, so that Severus' prick would go in and out.

 

Severus leaned back against the wall, bracing his legs wider, and Potter inched forward. He had nearly worked out how to keep Severus in his mouth and breathe through his nose. He sucked and bobbed and gagged and groaned and worked the base of Severus' cock and licked the ridge of skin under the head of his prick and generally teased and tried everything.

 

"I just want to fuck your mouth," Snape said, and Potter groaned around his cock. "I just want to fuck you, take you," he said. Potter took his mouth off.

 

"Please let me do this for you. Please." He peered up at Severus--his mouth was already reddened from sucking, and his eyes were very green.

 

"Of course," he said. Potter began sucking him in earnest. "I want to come in your pretty mouth," he said, and Potter groaned again. "You like dirty talk, don't you?" Potter kept sucking, making little pleased sounds. "You like cock. You're hungry for cock. You want a big cock up your arse and a cock in your mouth." Potter did his best to force the head of Severus' prick down his throat. "Don't hurt yourself," Severus said in his normal voice, and Potter looked up and took his mouth off.

 

"I'm sorry. I don't really--"

 

"You've never done this before?"

 

"No."

 

"Ah."

 

Potter grasped Severus' prick with both hands, and stroked him, a thumb on the head, the other fisting. "I want to, though. I want to suck you until you come...come in my mouth," he said in a low voice, and Severus thrust his hips and lost control, like a boy, ropes of white come shooting all over Potter's upturned face, his open mouth, his messy hair.

 

Severus leaned back, panting. Potter was still kneeling, looking dazed. After a moment, Severus pulled Potter to his feet, and then began to tuck himself back into his clothing.

 

"That was amazing," Potter said.

 

"You are a strange person," Severus said. "Someone you thought was dead for the last twenty years appears, you give him your first blowjob ever, and then you stand there, covered in come--" Potter shivered visibly. Severus kissed him and ran a hand down his chest to his groin. "You're hard again."

 

"These sorts of things have been happening to me since I got my Hogwarts letter," Potter said. "People turning up alive who were meant to be dead, people turning out to be on my side who were meant to hate me--"

 

"So I turned up alive and you decided to--"

 

Potter smiled at him. "You turned up alive in my first gay bar."

 

"I was in the right place at the right time."

 

"Or _I_ was."

 

"I want to take you home and fuck you," Severus said.

 

Potter closed his eyes for a moment, licking the come from his upper lip in a considering way. He smiled again, dreamily. "Yeah, all right."

 

"Don't be stupid, Potter--"

 

"You don't want to, then?"

 

Severus sighed. "I want to."

 

"Look into my eyes," Potter said. Severus, knowing he could occlude if he liked, did. They weren't Lily's eyes, and it wasn't James Potter's face. This was another whole person, an adult. "Yeah," Potter said. "It's you."

 

"How can you tell?"

 

"Magic."

 

They kissed again. Come had dried in Potter's hair, but he didn't care, kissing like his life depended on it.

 

"See what I mean?" Potter said.


	3. No Looking Back

**No Looking Back**  


 

 

Snape found one of his coworkers and told her she'd be closing the bar, that he had to leave early. It was hard to hear over the slurping and groaning in the booths and against the walls--there were men fucking each other all over the bar.

 

"Is it always like this?" Harry asked.

 

"No, only on the nights I put a few drops of lust potion in the keg of Guinness."

 

Harry laughed. They walked out of the pub and stood in the quiet dark of the street. Lamps were lit and reflected in puddles. It was still drizzling a little.

 

"You aren't worried that I've spiked your whiskey as well?" Snape said in a low voice.

 

"I don't really care," Harry said, his throat tight. "You might as well have done."

 

Snape slid his hand into the back pocket of Harry's jeans, so that his long fingers cupped Harry's buttock, and pulled Harry toward him. Harry shut his eyes, and Snape kissed him, in public, on the mouth. His thin lips were soft. It was a possessive gesture, even Harry knew that, but he didn't mind.

 

"You clearly became an auror on the strength of your good looks," Snape said. Harry looked up at him--Snape was still taller, but that was hardly remarkable--and grinned. He couldn't help it.

 

"I can't arrest you for putting potions in the drinks," he said, "because then I'd have to explain why I was here, and that would upset my--my whatever. Wife, I suppose, for a bit longer anyway."

 

"You aren't bothered by the idea that I might have drugged you to lust after me?"

 

"No," Harry said. "Anyway a man would have to be blind not to lust after you."

 

"I'm twenty years older than you are."

 

"Twenty years you spent in the gym, from the looks of it."

 

"I don't understand you--"

 

Harry cut him off. "Have you followed the course of my life in the newspapers?"

 

"Yes."

 

"While I thought you were dead all this time. Who doesn't understand who?" Snape looked rebellious, but Harry cut him off. "Please don't say 'understand whom, Potter.'"

 

"So you're willing to let me fuck you to get the answers to your questions?" Snape said in a low voice.

 

Harry felt the smile spread over his face. "No."

 

"No?"

 

"No, I'm willing to let you fuck me because that's what I came here for. I'm nearly forty. I want--" The words stuck.

 

Snape considered him. "I think I know what you want."

 

"I think you do, too."

 

"But then you are going to ask me--"

 

Harry thought fast. "Yes, I'll ask you questions. But not while you have your cock up my arse." He could nearly see Snape's pupils dilate.

 

"But afterward..."

 

"Profess--Snape. Afterward I hope you'll make me breakfast."

 

"Severus. I'm not going to fuck you if you call me professor." Harry's eyes filled unexpectedly, and he wiped them quickly. "Did _that_ make you sentimental?"

 

Harry tried to glare at him, but found himself laughing instead. "Let's go."

 

He took Snape's arm and they Apparated into a flat.

 

"Where are we?" Harry knew he shouldn't ask.

 

"Still in Manchester, and you're not to ask questions."

 

"I only promised not to ask while you were fucking me," Harry said.

 

"Well, then we'd better get right to it." He unbuckled Harry's belt and pulled it out of the loops, and began to disrobe him. Harry stood in the middle of the floor, just letting it happen.

 

"You're very passive," Snape said. Harry reached forward and grasped the hem of his turtleneck and pulled it over his head.

 

There was a huge scar where the snake's teeth had ripped Snape's neck and shoulder. Harry stared and Snape stared back, and Harry felt his face crumple and screw up against itself.

 

"Oh God," he sobbed. "Oh God, she really bit you. You died. Oh God." He was standing naked in the middle of the floor. Snape was going to say something cruel, but Harry couldn't help it. Something had burst inside him, seeing those scars. Snape had been willing to sacrifice himself when Harry hadn't even known what that meant.

 

Snape reached out and pulled Harry to his chest, wrapping his arms around him. "Yes, she bit me, but I didn't die." Snape's hand hesitated over his head for a moment before it came down and stroked his hair. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

 

"I want to, I want to," Harry said, sniffling. "If you still want to. It's a bit...Sorry."

 

Snape shrugged. "You did see me seem to bleed to death when you were only seventeen." He cleared his throat.

 

"I want to do something normal with you," Harry said. "Something life-affirming."

 

"Oh yes, like having homosexual sex for the first time with a former teacher, that's quite normal," Snape said. Harry laughed, and sniffled, and laughed some more.

 

"We've already had sex," Harry said. "I just want to have fucking, too."

 

Snape kissed him on the forehead, slowly, and then began to lick up Harry's tears. His tongue was warm and just damp. It licked the area under his eyes, the stubble of his jaw. Snape continued licking his throat. Harry was hard and a little shaky. He felt the fabric of Snape's jeans rough against his cock where he was humping his leg.

 

Snape unbuttoned his jeans, and took them off, and his underwear. His cock was still soft, and Harry dropped to his knees to suck it into his mouth. It was so exciting to feel it grow to its considerable full size.

 

"In the bed," Snape suggested from a long way off. He pulled his cock away. "Let's go to _bed_," he said again.

 

It was just an ordinary bed. The sheets had a scent like aftershave. They got into the bed and embraced. It felt incredibly good to have a man's body against his. Snape lay on top of him and Harry could feel his hard prick against his leg.

 

Snape knew what he was doing. He spread Harry's legs and put some goop on his fingers from a jar beside the bed. He stuck his finger in Harry's arse in a businesslike way, and then spread him wider, and fit in two fingers.

 

Harry squirmed. Snape was kneeling between his legs, concentrating on him, his eyebrows dark and bushy over his black eyes. His chest was swirled with dark and gray hair, and his nipples were dark pink against his skin. His cock stood up at an angle, red, rampant, huge. He was moving his fingers in and out of Harry's arse, and it was weird, but Harry could feel it in the base of his cock, and he wasn't afraid. This was going to be good, a high. He'd read in a magazine that some wizards said it was better than flying.

 

Snape pulled Harry's legs over his arms and then Snape's cock was pushing into him and then it was moving inside him. Snape pushed in slow until the skin stretched to let girth of his penis into Harry's body, and then he slammed in hard so that he was all the way inside.

 

Harry nearly came right then. If it hadn't hurt, he would have. He gasped, breathing into the combination of pain and pleasure. Snape was watching him, and then he thrust in again. "Ah!" Harry said, and Snape said, "Don't talk or I'll come," and he pushed in again, and again, and Harry just managed to say, wondering, "I'm going to come," and then Snape was coming, saying "Fuck," in a loud voice.

 

He didn't pull out, just wanked Harry until he spilled all over himself again. He leaned forward and kissed Harry on the mouth. Harry lay back as Snape put his legs down gently and finally, pulled out of his body.

 

Snape held him for a bit, and Harry rested his head against Snape's body and was happy. Then Snape said, "You'll probably want a shower before you go," and they got out of bed and Snape handed him a towel and showed him where the bathroom was.

 

Of course, he couldn't really stay. Snape didn't want him to ask any questions about how he had survived. It wasn't as though Snape would want to--well. This was already quite a good sexual encounter, which was more than he might have expected, and with someone he trusted.

 

He turned on the shower and got into it. His arse was sore, which was a strange feeling. He wasn't injured, because Snape had been careful, but it throbbed anyway. He soaped himself and relived some of the night's pleasures briefly.

 

Harry got out of the shower and Snape got in and he listened to Snape wash while he dried himself.

 

He padded into the living room to find his clothes, which were scattered on the floor, and started to put them on.

 

Suddenly the shower door banged open and the water turned off, and Snape thumped out of the stall quickly, swearing. He came into the living room, a towel around his waist, his hair dripping.

 

"Wait," Snape said. "Wait." Harry waited. "You said I would make you breakfast. I--You don't have to go."

 

"It's all right," Harry said.

 

"No it is not bloody well all right! I'm not--"

 

"Not what?"

 

"I'm not going to fuck it all up again," Snape said. "I just assumed you'd want to go once we were done--done with each other."

 

Harry said, "Do you think we'll ever be done with each other?"

 

Snape looked at him, and then moved toward him, and embraced him, and Harry exhaled a breath he never remembered taking. "No," Snape said. "I will never be done with you, so you must stay. I want you to stay."


	4. Look at Me

**Look at Me**

 

 

"So how did you survive?"

 

"I told you to work it out."

 

Harry nodded. "I did work out how you might have done. We didn't find your body, so we talked about it, after."

 

Snape nodded and took a swallow of tea. "You and Miss Granger--Mrs. Weasley, now."

 

"And Ron. Hermione thought you died," Harry said. "She thought you could have decided to take anti-venin and blood replenishing potions, but that you were too depressed and chose to die. After I told her about your memories, that was her theory."

 

Snape pulled his head up. "What did you think?"

 

Harry poked his muesli and yoghurt with his spoon. Breakfast with Snape was spartan. "I didn't know," he admitted. "I was emotionally numb. A lot of people I loved had died and you--died in front of me. I was still angry with you, especially once I realized how well you knew my mother."

 

Snape put down his mug of tea. "I didn't owe you anything."

 

"No. You don't now, either. I'm not that kid anymore. I'm just trying to explain why I had no opinion. I knew you could have survived if you had wanted to, that she was right, and I was angry with you for dying, even though it proved that you were on my side."

 

"It wasn't _your_ side."

 

"Please," Harry said.

 

"I did horrible things, I watched those people do horrible things. I did everything Albus asked of me. Minerva McGonagall, who was one of the closest friends I had, hated me. I don't owe you a thing, not even an explanation."

 

Harry stood up. "I know that, but could you please--remember who I am and where we are?"

 

Snape's eyes protruded slightly with his stare. He took a breath and shut them. The color went down in his face, and his expression went kind of blank. He nodded. "It wasn't your fault that Lily died."

 

"No," Harry said, sitting down at the table again. "It wasn't your fault either."

 

Snape's eyes opened again. "Yes, it was."

 

"No," Harry said. "No. It took me years to understand that. I'm sorry I blamed you for it. After you died--after I thought you'd died, I thought a lot about how horrible that was to hear."

 

"Granger was right, you know," Snape said, "I did want to die. Dumbledore made me promise to try to stay alive to see it through to the end. I could not bear it that I was betraying Lily by letting you go to your death."

 

"You loved me more than Dumbledore did," Harry said. "That really hurt."

 

"I didn't love you. You were his favorite. How can you say that?"

 

"Because I have children now," Harry said, "and I know how young I was when he asked all of that of me."

 

"But you had to be the one to do it, because of the prophecy."

 

"And you had to do what you did," Harry said. Snape's eyes brimmed and spilled over. "I know you had to do it."

 

"You're wrong, I didn't care about you," Snape said. Tears were rolling down his face. "She cared about you. I don't want to talk about this."

 

He stood up suddenly and left the room.

 

Harry sat poking his spoon into the cereal. He fished out some date pieces and ate them.

 

After a few minutes, Snape came back and stood in the doorway, his arms folded. "You were awfully small and defenseless to be as cheeky as you were," he said. "You seemed determined to injure yourself, even more than the average Hogwarts student, and that's saying something."

 

"Are you still angry with me?"

 

"It was a long time ago," Snape said.

 

"You are then. You wouldn't be you if you weren't." Snape looked at the linoleum. Harry got up and went to him in the doorway. "Did you know I named my son after you?"

 

Snape's lips twitched. "You are such an idiot."

 

"Yeah."

 

"How could you saddle your child with such a funny name? Albus Severus. You're as pretentious as my sainted mother was. It's such bad taste. I _killed_ Albus Dumbledore, and he rather despised me, I think, as he asked me to do it, so it's not as though the names go together."

 

"I know. I was there." Harry felt a rush of the old anger. He stopped and took a breath. "He's a lovely boy, though. Good at school, very brave, loads of magic--"

 

"Stop."

 

"What?"

 

"You can't fix everything. You can't make it all better."

 

"I'll go, then."

 

Snape stood holding his elbows and looking furious. "Don't leave," he said. "This is not a one-night stand."

 

"What is it, then?"

 

If the floor could have caught fire from Snape looking at it, it would have. "This is my last chance."

 

"To resolve the past?" Harry asked.

 

"To mean something to someone else. To be important to someone else."

 

Harry put his hand out and touched Snape's arm. Snape looked up, finally. "That's it? You just want to be important?"

 

Snape shut his eyes, like one of Harry's children when he was ashamed.

 

"You could want something more than that from me," Harry said. "I'm willing to--I want to--You're already important to me."

 

"What are you willing to do?" Snape said. "A silly question, isn't it? You were willing to die for--well, for everyone, when you were only seventeen. Now you're willing to take it up the arse, to lick my come off your face--you're willing to do anything, you crazy bastard."

 

"I'm willing to love you."

 

"Willing but not able?" Snape had his arms still wrapped around himself, his face contorted.

 

"I mean, I'm willing if you want me to. I'm not so--it turned out that I wasn't as good at it as Dumbledore thought."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Dumbledore thought I was exceptionally loving. My family doesn't think so," Harry said. "My wife was sure it was because I was gay, but--I really liked going to bed with her. I just--I'm not so--"

 

"What, _romantic_?"

 

Harry shrugged. He was going to cry again, he just knew it, and he didn't like to cry in front of Snape. "Not that. Just--you have to be present, be _with_ people. I'm not. I don't know how to be a good father, either," he said. "It seems like my childhood affected me more than I wanted to believe."

 

"Join the club."

 

"Yeah," Harry said. He felt the thickness in his throat subside. "Yeah, that's right. You know what it's like." He smiled. "You probably get angry a lot, too."

 

Snape stared at him. "You know I do."

 

Harry was grinning. "We could be great together, you know. Throw a lot of crockery, of course, and set things on fire."

 

"I try not to lose my temper," Snape said. Harry laughed. "What?"

 

"I know," Harry said. "I want to kiss you." Snape swooped, pulling him in as though they were dancing. "Oh, nice," Harry said, and they kissed. It was different to kiss a man when completely sober, and maybe better. Harry's heart accelerated and time seemed to slow as their lips and tongues touched and flowed together.

 

"I'm honour-bound to tell you," Snape said after a bit, "that I have not become any more pleasant."

 

"That is clearly untrue," Harry said. "I do not remember you ever kissing me twenty years ago."

 

"Potter," he said.

 

"Because that would have been memorable." He was leaning against Snape's chest. "This is pleasant, too. I could like this."

 

Snape's lips twitched and Harry felt a weird elation. Snape's mouth went crooked and he smiled.

 

"Yeah," Harry said. "We could be great together."

 

"Really," Snape said, and kissed him again.


	5. What She Saw

**What She Saw**

 

 

"I can't believe it." Hermione brought her feet under her. She was sitting in the large window seat in Luna's bedroom, on the long red velvet cushion as thick as a mattress. She let her head fall back from the many pillows and it hit against the pane dully, still cushioned by too much hair to bang.

 

"Why not?" Luna set a mug of tea in front of her, but Hermione didn't drink it. "You were the one who told me all the reasons you thought Snape might be alive."

 

"There was no headmaster portrait."

 

"The lack of a body," Luna continued. "No books left in his rooms at Hogwarts. The empty potions closet."

 

"Yes, yes, right, but I didn't think--I mean, I saw him die. Apparently," Hermione said. "On some level I believed it. I saw it, I thought it was true."

 

"But you doubted a little. And you were the one who speculated that Harry and Ginny's marriage might be breaking up because of sexual issues," Luna continued. "You also thought Harry moved out of your place in order to have somewhere to entertain someone."

 

"But I didn't expect to find Harry and Snape_in flagrante delicto_!"

 

"I love that expression," Luna said. She smiled. "I hope they were enjoying themselves."

 

"I was too shocked to see--I thought he was dead!" She picked up the tea and set it down again.

 

"Drink the tea, Hermione," Luna said. Her soft breathy voice no longer sounded overly sweet or false, now that Hermione knew her better. "It's good after a shock."

 

"Did you put anything in it?"

 

"It's tea," Luna said. "I put milk in, no sugar."

 

"Right," Hermione said into her mug. She drank. It was good.

 

"I know how you take your tea, acushla."

 

Hermione swallowed a sip of tea and put the mug down, and then put her arm around Luna, leaning back against the window. "I could do with a bit of comforting," she said.

 

She was so small compared to Ron. Everything was in reach. It was nothing to kiss her, since her mouth was right there on the same level with Hermione's, nothing at all to cup a hand under her perfect, round breast. The softness of the kiss became liquid and urgent as Hermione brushed her thumb over Luna's nipple.

 

Luna's face flushed. "Were they naked, then?"

 

"This excites you," Hermione said. She ran a hand up Luna's thigh, under her skirt. "Are you wearing stockings, you naughty thing?"

 

"With suspenders, but why is it naughty? I thought you liked them."

 

"I do like them," Hermione said.

 

"Good, I wore them to please you," Luna said, in much the same tone as she had about the tea. Hermione kissed her fragrant neck. She used clove-scented soap.

 

"It does please me," Hermione said. She kissed her some more. Luna always licked Hermione's ears, nipping at her earlobes. It made Hermione want to grind against her. She unbuttoned Luna's red silk blouse, kissing the skin between her breasts, pushing the breasts up against her mouth to lick them.

 

The stockings, though, the stockings Luna had worn for her. Hermione knew she didn't like them, but wore them only for Hermione's reaction. She could hear the silk of them as Luna rubbed her thighs together and sighed. She pushed up Luna's skirt and parted her legs. She wasn't wearing panties. "Oh, Luna," Hermione said. "I want to eat you."

 

"Tell me what they were doing," Luna said. "Tell me what you saw."

 

Luna had pale pubic hair, almost silvery, and the skin of her thighs, framed by the black lace of the stockings, was vulnerable and pink. There was a damp curl of shining hair right over her clit, and Hermione licked that, further wetting her mound of venus. "Mound of venus," she said to herself. "All the names are so--"

 

"Call it my cunt," Luna said. "When I say cunt it always makes you wet." She put her hand on her wand and cast something, and Hermione was naked.

 

"Don't _do_ that, darling," Hermione said impatiently. She always had to resist the impulse to cover her breasts. In spite of careful exercise, her body had never properly recovered from childbirth and nursing. Compared to Luna, she looked so middle-aged.

 

"I folded them," Luna said, gesturing to Hermione's clothes folded on the bed. "I just want to see you." She leaned back against the window seat cushions. "And tell me what they were doing, ah," she gasped. Hermione ignored her and got down to her favorite part, which was licking Luna into her first orgasm. Luna made some small noises but kept talking. "Was Professor Snape buggering Harry? Was Harry on all fours, like you?"

 

Hermione refused to respond to this, but kept licking, pushing Luna's legs open. She could feel the lace at the tops of her stockings where the suspenders bit into her thighs.

 

"Was his cock very big?" Something was nudging Hermione's arse--it was one of Luna's dildoes that she could summon and control non-verbally.

 

"No, darling," Hermione said into Luna's wet quim, and then, to answer her question, "Well, yes, but--Luna--"

 

"Keep going," Luna said in her breathless girlish voice. "Can you? Can you really do more than one thing at once?"

 

Hermione would not feel guilty. She would not. She was not breaking up her marriage over--she-- "Luna--"

 

"Do it," Luna said softly. "Make me come," and Hermione sighed. She bent her head again and felt Luna's hands in her hair. Her own cunt was wet and the dildo was teasing her, tip running around the wet edge of her lower lips. Luna tasted salty, like eating oysters, but not cool, not cool at all.

 

"Did Snape bugger him from behind," Luna asked, "did he grunt with effort?"Hermione grunted as the big dildo pushed inside her. "Yes, like that, like that," and for a moment it wasn't clear if "like that" meant the sounds Hermione was making or the way she was licking Luna's clit.

 

"Did he fuck him hard? Did Harry throw his head back and look beautiful and ecstatic? Oh," she said, "oh. Oh. Oh." Hermione pushed a finger inside her arse and two into her cunt, to feel her convulsive grab as she came, "oh," Luna said, a long way off. "Tell me about Harry getting fucked. Oh. Oh."

 

Her thighs were pressed against Hermione's ears, but her voice got louder. "Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Uh. Uh. UH." She lay back, panting. "Oh God," she said. "Uh. Did he stick his arse in the air like you are, OH!" and she came again, her muscles twitching around Hermione's fingers as her thumb brushed over Luna's sensitized clit.

 

"Yes," Hermione said. "Yes," and the dildo was fucking her from behind, and that was good, but she wanted more Luna, so she lay fully on top of her, the front of her body against Luna's, breast to breast, and then began to hump her, rubbing against her. Luna was squirming and grabbing Hermione's arse, and then she had something in there, too--a butt plug. She had a lot of toys. Hermione was full of Luna and her delicious hair, her soft skin, her thrusting and pushing.

 

"Oh Luna," she said into that neck, and she felt her arse clench against the butt plug and her cunt spasm, coming. She was lying on top of Luna in the window seat, their breasts pressed against each other, soft. Luna's hands were gripping her buttocks, and Hermione shook and came again, the cock up her arse chasing the pleasure, pushing into her as Luna murmured soft erotic questions about Snape and Harry. Did Harry know she saw him? Did he come in front of her? Luna knew too much about Hermione.

 

Hermione's ears were still ringing, her breathing slowing, but Luna was still asking questions.

 

"Are you going to leave him," she asked, "Are you going leave Ronald? Are you going to choose him or choose me? Hermione?"

 

Hermione heard her soft voice as if from a long way off. She was tired. Her eyes were still shut.

 

"I don't know," she said. "I still love him, too."

 

"You love him too," Luna said in a small, exhausted voice. "Does the 'too' mean you love me?"

 

"Yes," Hermione said, "Luna, I'm sorry."

 

"Sorry that you love me?"

 

"No. No! Sorry that I never said it. I love you," Hermione said. Her throat caught. "It didn't come out right. You deserve better than this. Better than me."

 

Luna raised herself on one elbow. She was still wearing her open blouse and her stockings with suspenders, though she'd banished her skirt and bra. She looked down at Hermione's face, and played with her hair a little. "Deserve is a funny word," she said. "Does anything happen because we deserve it?"

 

"You're always so calm," Hermione said.

 

"You're always so beautiful," Luna said. "I should have picked the kindest of my friends to love, or the gentlest, but the heart picks for us and mine picked the most beautiful one."

 

"I'm not beautiful. I suppose I'm not kind, if I'm not kind to you."

 

"You're kind enough," Luna said. "These are special circumstances, you know. You don't believe me when I say you are beautiful, do you?" Hermione shook her head and tears dropped, hot on her cheek. These meetings always made her cry somehow, and Luna always wound up holding her. "It's fine. I like to hold you when you cry."

 

"You always know what I'm thinking," Hermione complained against her breast. Luna wiped her tears. Witches raised in pureblood families could always summon a handkerchief without thinking. They were real _witches_, like in books, not dependent on spells.

 

Luna's magic made her glow--her pale hair, and her lovely skin, still unstretched by pregnancy. She had such pretty legs, such wonderful pink-nippled breasts. Hermione nuzzled them.

 

"I know what you're thinking now," Luna said, as Hermione took a nipple into her mouth. "Let's get on the bed this time."

 

Hermione stood and Luna took her hands. "But don't talk dirty, Luna, please," Hermione said. "I only want to think about you."


	6. Another View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She's not trying to get me to take him back," Ginny said.
> 
> "I'm not suggesting that she take him back, no." Molly said. "I think you made the right choice. It's very hard to have to care for a man as though he were one of your children."
> 
> Hermione nodded, swallowing her objection to that. She didn't like to hear anyone say anything negative about Harry, even if it was true. The habit of many years was to defend him, but she knew she should be relieved her mother-in-law was reconciled to this divorce.

**Another View**

 

 

"A man like Harry, someone who has a lot of responsibility and takes risks for other people, someone who grew up without a mother, needs a woman who will take care of him, mother him a bit." Molly Weasley was looking at her daughter with a degree of intensity that Hermione rarely saw on her face.

 

"Sexually also," Ginny said. Her mother nodded.

 

"I can't believe you're encouraging her to take him back!" Hermione said. "Ginny is an adult, and--"

 

"She's not trying to get me to take him back," Ginny said.

 

"I'm not suggesting that she take him back, no." Molly said. "I think you made the right choice. It's very hard to have to care for a man as though he were one of your children."

 

Hermione nodded, swallowing her objection to that. She didn't like to hear anyone say anything negative about Harry, even if it was true. The habit of many years was to defend him, but she knew she should be relieved her mother-in-law was reconciled to this divorce.

 

There was no way Ginny would take Harry back now, and she didn't even know about Snape yet.

 

Ron popped into the kitchen. "Hermione, I know your secret," he said wagging a finger at her. Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. "Harry told me."

 

"Harry told you?" she said.

 

"He admitted that he's having an affair with some man, some old man who looks just like Severus Snape."

 

"I think it is Snape," Hermione said.

 

Ginny smacked the table. "I can't believe he would tell the two of you and not me! This is just typical!"

 

"He didn't tell me," Hermione said in a low voice. Ginny quieted. "I walked in on them. I was bringing him dinner, you see, to the new flat."

 

Ron made a noise of disgust, and put his arm around her.

 

"Oh Ron, it wasn't that bad," Hermione said. "I mean, I didn't see--I was mainly shocked that Snape is still alive."

 

"It's not Snape!" Ron said. "How could it be? You saw him die!"

 

Ginny looked at Hermione and then at the ceiling. "Are you a wizard?"

 

"What?" Her brother looked annoyed.

 

"This happens all the time in your work, Ron. You and Harry are constantly finding people who faked their own deaths, or weren't really dead. Harry complains that it's one of the hardest things about solving crime in the wizarding world."

 

"He still wants to be Sherlock Holmes," Hermione said. "Do not say 'who?' Ron, if you value your life."

 

"Would be a good way to fake my own death," Ron said. "That or yelling at your parents on the phone. 'Killed by his own wife for stupidity, he was,' they'd say, and no one the wiser." Hermione had to smile at that.

 

She still loved him. She was utterly fucked. If he knew she was cheating on him, he'd never get over it. Her children would never get over it. Cheating on him with a woman, as well. What was she doing? She looked out the kitchen window, and somehow missed when Harry Flooed in with the children.

 

"Hermione?"

 

Harry was already there and she had been so absorbed in worrying about herself that she'd been too busy to worry about him. It was just like her to feel guilty for not worrying, as though worrying did anything. She looked up. "Hi, Harry," she said.

 

"Bit preoccupied, are you?" Ron asked. He smiled at her, and his eyes were bluer than ever.

 

"Yes, a bit," she said.

 

"Oi, keep your trousers on around me wife, Potter," Ron said in an undertone. He smiled like he meant it to be funny, but no one laughed. Harry blushed and looked at the floor. Ginny cleared her throat, and then the children burst in. The boys went straight to the ice-box to get a snack.

 

"Mummy! Dad took me on the Tube!" Lily said. She dropped heavily into her mother's lap, wrapping long pre-adolescent arms around her neck. "It was brilliant."

 

"I did it for the boys, you know, so I took Lily too," Harry said. "I wanted her to experience London the way I did when I was eleven."

 

Ginny relaxed visibly. She and Harry smiled at each other. Hermione felt a catch in her throat. "Excuse me," she said. She had to get out of there before she wept in front them all. What a mess.

 

Harry stayed for a minute, his hands swinging at his sides. He looked everywhere but at Molly, who finally came around the kitchen table to him. She straightened the collar of his shirt where it came through the neck of his robes. "You look well," she said.

 

"Thanks," he said.

 

She patted his cheek. He was only an inch or two taller than she was, unlike most of the Weasleys. "Are you staying for dinner?" Molly made her voice light.

 

"No, thank you," Harry said. "I have--I have to get back."

 

Lily stood up and threw her arms around him. "I love you, Daddy," she said. "Thanks for a wonderful day."

 

Ginny stood and kissed him on the cheek, so Hermione came round and kissed him too. Ron clapped him on the shoulder.

 

"Wait, Dad," Al said through a mouthful of broccoli. Molly kept healthy snacks for the children because Hermione had asked, but only Ginny's boys ate them. "Wait." He hugged Harry from behind, his arm across Harry's sternum as he chewed and swallowed. He was already as tall as Harry. He kissed his father on the cheek. "Don't forget that we're on for next week, right?"

 

Harry nodded. "Bye, James," he said.

 

"Bye, Dad."

 

Harry Apparated away.

 

Hermione dug for her handkerchief, trying not to let them all see her tears.

 

"What is it, love," Ron said. Ugh, she had forgotten about Summoning a handkerchief again, just like when she was with Luna. She excused herself, "Something in my eye." As she left the room she could hear her mother-in-law speculating about whether her weepiness lately was a sign that she was pregnant. She _had_ to get away from them all. She blew her nose and looked at her face in the lav mirror. She didn't have to stay--she could Apparate home from the bathroom.

 

It was over thirty years since she'd begun to use her magic, and she still forgot to use it for these basic things. She popped into her bedroom at home, where it was quiet. Her children were still at the Weasleys. Even the cat was out of the house. She threw herself headfirst at her pillow and crushed it around her ears.

 

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Ron said. No privacy in a wizarding family. If they wanted to find you, they would. He was standing over her where she was lying on the bed, having the first sobs of a good cry.

 

"I just--" she gulped. "I'm sorry for Harry, all right."

 

"Because of Snape?"

 

"Ron," she said. "Because of his marriage. He always wanted--I'm just sorry. He loves those kids."

 

"Why did he leave her then?"

 

Hermione stared at him. "It was her idea."

 

"Really?"

 

"Of course. Did he tell you something else?"

 

Ron shook his head. "I just thought-- eh. Witches know things," he said. It was one of his favorite sayings, "witches know things." He sat down next to her on the bed and stroked her hair, then lay down next to her. She rolled into his arms, and he started to kiss her face. It was only a moment between comforting her and pushing his erection against her through their clothes.

 

She pushed back. It felt good. She rolled him over and humped him, feeling the slide of her clit inside her jeans pushing against his hard-on. He made their clothing disappear, but this time she didn't complain. She knew he made love with his eyes shut.

 

They rubbed against each other until she couldn't take it. She knelt and pushed his cock inside her, sinking down onto it. He always groaned. It was endearing. He didn't make much noise or talk or anything, just kept his eyes shut and held her breasts or her buttocks, and thrust.

 

He wasn't good in bed, but it was always good. This time he worked a finger into her arse as she was starting to come, and she went off like a rocket, shuddering. "Uh," he grunted, as she slid down on him hard. It was good, she was coming, he was still beautiful, the tears squeezing from his tightly clenched eyelids, glistening on the red of his lashes.

 

He still shone for her, coming that way, while she rode him, her breasts and her breath shuddering. He trembled under her and then stilled. She leaned over him, panting, and kissed him.

 

"I love you," he said, and she said it too, and it was true. She did love him. Anyway she felt better, less nervous.

 

She fell asleep with his cock still warm inside her.


	7. Examining the Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What're you doing?" Potter asked.
> 
> "I'm practicing yoga," Severus said.
> 
> "You were standing on your head," Potter said.
> 
> "Nothing gets past you," Severus said. He knelt in virasana and brought his hands into namaskar. He bowed to Potter's floating head. "Namaste," he intoned.
> 
> "Did you use magic to do that?" Potter missed the point of everything.

**Examining the Problem**

 

 

"Oh, sorry." Harry Potter's head couldn't be in his Floo, because Severus didn't own a fireplace. Nevertheless, Potter had made his head appear in the electric fire, shimmering behind the coils. He was upside down from this vantage point, and peering at Severus.

 

Severus didn't hurry to come down from the pose. He lowered his legs from the waist, concentrating on his abdominal muscles. Like a hinge, he thought. His feet hit the floor with almost no sound. Good. No, don't praise yourself, just do it.

 

"What're you doing?" Potter asked.

 

"I'm practicing yoga," Severus said.

 

"You were standing on your head," Potter said.

 

"Nothing gets past you," Severus said. He knelt in virasana and brought his hands into namaskar. He bowed to Potter's floating head. "Namaste," he intoned.

 

"Did you use magic to do that?" Potter missed the point of everything. Severus looked accusingly at the cracks in the plaster of the ceiling. Relax the eyes, he thought. Relax the eyes and breathe.

 

"Don't talk to me from the electric heater, please," Severus said, and Potter's face fell. "Come over," he explained.

 

The problem with this, whatever it was, situation, relationship, was that Potter had been his student. He reacted like Severus could give him marks.

 

No, the problem was that he was Lily's son and Albus' favorite, and Severus was still unable to be kind to him.

 

Potter Apparated into the flat. "Is that why you look so fit, because of yoga?"

 

Severus shrugged. The problem was that Potter blurted out anything that came into his head. "It's meant to help me with anger." He stood up and began to roll his mat.

 

"Meant to. Is it magic?"

 

"Everything is magic. Why don't you sit down?"

 

Potter stood in the middle of the floor with his hands dangling like he didn't know what to do with them. "Want to have sex?" he asked.

 

"What?"

 

"I can go home if you don't. I mean. I can stay too."

 

"Harry," Severus said. Potter came at him and tried to embrace him, but it was a little like the opening move in a wrestling match. "What's wrong?"

 

But he knew what was wrong. The problem was that it was nearly as difficult for him to do what Potter needed as it was for Potter to ask for it. He put his arms around the younger man and stroked his shoulders and his head. Potter sighed. Severus had to work on his breathing to stay calm. Just embracing was never going to be comfortable for him. He imagined that there was music playing and that they were dancing close, and that felt less threatening.

 

This is how people show they love each other, by hugging. I have to learn to do it.

 

Then Potter ran his hands over Severus' buttocks. "What're you wearing?"

 

They were exercise shorts. He didn't think the question should be dignified with an answer, especially as Potter was trying to see how much of Severus he could feel through the shiny elastane fabric. The tips of his fingers skated over the crotch of the garment where Severus' balls were crammed tight. Tighter, now, as his cock filled and strained against the shorts.

 

Potter sank to his knees. He mouthed the shorts where the head of Severus' prick was pushed against them, his breath hot through the dampened cloth. He lifted his head and stuck his tongue into Severus' navel, which was both erotic and ticklish.

 

Then he pulled the shorts down and began to nuzzle Severus' cock. He opened his mouth and pulled it in with his tongue. He was an eager cocksucker, so eager it made Severus' legs tremble under him. He carded his fingers through the thick dark hair, but didn't try to pull away.

 

"I have a bedroom," he said thickly.

 

Potter pulled off and looked up at him with mischief in his green eyes. "You do?" Taking Severus' prick back into his mouth, he sucked hard and Apparated them into the bedroom at the same time.

 

"Don't do that," Severus said, falling back against his bed. Potter hummed and straddling Severus' body, pulled down his shorts. "You're awfully aggressive tonight."

 

"I've been thinking about--" Potter brought one of Severus' bare feet up against his chest. He sucked on Severus' big toe, and licked the valley between his toes. Severus squirmed, his prick thrusting up as his hips moved.

 

The problem was that the point of sex was to lose his self-control, and he already had a problem with that where Harry Potter was concerned. If he'd been smart, he would have stayed hidden, but he couldn't resist. Now he would pay. Potter had been reading and had got some ideas. He licked down the inside of Severus' leg. Severus still, at nearly 60, had rather a lot of leg hair. He felt damp and self-conscious, though he did not lose his erection. No, he was still excited by the way that Potter swam up his body and into his arms, kissing until he reached Severus' mouth.

 

"Did you want to top?" Severus asked.

 

Potter looked into his eyes, the heart-stopping green of his irises as defenseless as when he was a boy. "Really?" He smiled very sweetly. "Right, right, yes please," he said, jumping up to take off his clothing in a tearing hurry.

 

Severus reclined against the pillows and watched him hop around trying to remove his shoes before he remembered that he could disrobe with magic. Finally naked, Potter flung himself back on the bed.

 

Severus turned onto his belly with his arse exposed and waited. Potter stood behind him, the heat of his body against Severus' back.

 

Potter pulled his hips up, and began to stroke his arse. Severus felt his own motions, his own techniques--Potter had memorized everything he did, the separation of the buttocks, the fingers full of lubricant, the teasing. He looked behind him. Potter's cock stuck straight up and his face was intent.

 

"All right, enough," Severus said, trying not to let his impatience get the better of him. Potter moved his cock into place and began to push in.

 

There was nothing like penetration, nothing. It was as intimate as being in someone's head. Potter was panting. He pushed in a little more easily on the second thrust, and then again, and again, until he was sliding in and out. Severus' entire body felt hot, as though the blood was forced up by the sliding cock. "Good," he grunted. "Harder," and Potter made a noise.

 

"Tell me," he said. "Tell me to fuck you harder."

 

"Fuck," Severus said, "Fuck me harder."

 

"Yes," he said, and grunted with effort or arousal. "Say it again."

 

"Fuck," he said, feeling his orgasm about to hit him, "touch my," and Potter grabbed him tight, good and tight, and pulled, and Severus said, "Fuck me harder, damn you, oh" and came, each thrust forcing a keen spasm and a grunt from him.

 

"Oh God, oh God," Potter muttered, and thrust twice more, and came. Severus could feel him tremble, and there was a trickle of semen on his leg.

 

Potter fell forward onto Severus' back. He stuck his nose into Severus' hair and inhaled. His chest hair was damp with sweat. "Thank you," he said.

 

"My pleasure," Severus said, still panting.


	8. Try to See It

**Try To See It**

 

 

He was dreaming about Professor Snape's death again. "No," he said. "No."

 

"Look at me," Snape said, his blood on the floor. There was something Harry was supposed to remember about this. Snape wasn't going to die this time. He thought that every time he dreamed about this, and every time he knew that Snape was dead already.

 

"No, no," Harry said.

 

"Lily," Snape said. "Lily, don't cry," and died.

 

Harry shook awake, saying no as he surfaced, and sat up. He was in Snape's bed and Snape was there, salt and pepper hair sticking up from his head.

 

Harry breathed. "All right," he said out loud. Snape turned over and looked up at him, blinking.

 

"Bad dream?" he said. Harry nodded. Snape sat up.

 

"It's good that you're right here," Harry said.

 

"It is my bed," Snape said.

 

Harry lay back down, and Snape did as well. Snape sometimes forced himself to cuddle, but Harry didn't like the way he seemed to be ready to crawl out of his skin with discomfort. He slid his hand into Snape's slightly longer one and Snape grasped it.

 

"Do you ever have bad dreams?"

 

"Of course. Called for my mum, at Hogwarts."

 

"You never," Harry said, suddenly sleepy.

 

"No, of course not."

 

"I wish my mum..." Harry began, and yawned.

 

"Wish she what?" His voice went flat, sad and guarded, but his thumb stroked the back of Harry's hand without a pause.

 

"Something," Harry said, and then he was asleep.

 

In the morning, Harry woke and Snape was not in the bed. He was doing exercises in the living room again, in his pajama bottoms this time.

 

"What're you doing?" Harry had to clear his throat and repeat it. The scars on Snape's neck and shoulder were visible in the morning light.

 

"Surya namaskar. I'm greeting the sun."

 

He jumped forward, balancing his weight on his arms so that he seemed to float, and landed with his legs bent, his arms up, victorious. Then he brought his hands in front of him and bowed to Harry.

 

"I'd like to cook you breakfast," Harry said. Snape shook his head. "Why not?"

 

"Lately I've been eating only live food. Raw food."

 

"What, like steak tartare?" Snape rolled his eyes. "Not meat then. I hear you when you do that."

 

"Do what?"

 

"Think I'm missing the point." He shrugged. "I'm not utterly stupid, you know, I just sometimes lack necessary context."

 

"Story of your life, eh."

 

"Yeah." At least Snape didn't throw things at him for it any longer. "Can I cut up fruit for you, then?"

 

"I'll do it," Snape said. "You don't have to entertain me--any more than you have, that is." Harry's face heated. "Ah, were you hoping to fortify me for further entertainment? I'm an old man, Potter." He pulled Harry close and kissed him. The liquid motion of his tongue went straight to Harry's prick. He broke the kiss and looked into Harry's eyes. "This is quite a torrid romance, isn't it?"

 

Harry laughed. "Old man, my arse, you're hard too."

 

Snape whirled away from him toward the kitchen. "Fruit." He looked over his shoulder. "I'm inviting you to breakfast, not insulting you."

 

"What did you mean," Harry asked, "when you said everything was magic?"

 

Snape didn't say anything for a minute. He sliced open an orange. Inside, each segment of the fruit was dark red, shading to orange, with white pith between the sections.

 

"Where did you get a blood orange this time of year?" Harry asked. "They aren't in season in Spain now, are they?"

 

"Do you like them?" Snape asked. He held half an orange in his hand.

 

"Yes, I like them. They're beautiful. Why, did you transfigure it?"

 

"No."

 

"Did you have to fly somewhere to get it?"

 

"No."

 

"I missed the point again, didn't I."

 

Snape waited.

 

"Well, what is magic, then?"

 

Snape sliced an apple in circles, so that the seeds made stars. Each slice was the same perfect thickness. Harry watched and smiled. "I love the way you do things," he said.

 

Snape threw the knife down blade first into the worktop, cursed, and left the room.

 

"What?" Harry said. He'd got up Snape's nose, and he didn't know why. Just like old times.

 

Snape was back in the living room, standing on his hands.

 

"You're angry with me," Harry said.

 

Snape exhaled with a snort, and came down. "This yoga shite does not work," he complained. He stood up.

 

"Thanks for not throwing the knife at my head. What did I say?"

 

"Oh for shit's sake, Potter, it's not all about you. Stop standing there looking vulnerable. You're probably the most powerful wizard in your generation."

 

"Should I leave?"

 

"No!"

 

"Right."

 

"I thought you were looking forward to a few good _fights_, eh?"

 

"What's bothering you?

 

"Nothing."

 

Harry leaned forward and took Snape in his arms.

 

"Don't," Snape said, and then he kissed Harry the way he always did, passionately, perfectly, and Harry said it, the thing Snape didn't want him to say.

 

Snape flinched. He flinched. "If you ever leave me," he said, "I will kill you."

 

"I know."


	9. Ron's View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're drunk."
> 
> "You're right!" Harry smiled broadly. "You're right! I'm drunk! Did you know that meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me?"
> 
> "Really?"
> 
> "Happiest day of my life," Harry said. Ron was crying. "And when my children were born." Harry realized he was crying, too, but they were both drunk, so it didn't really matter.

**Ron's View**

 

 

Ron was getting drunk. Harry had never seen him do it so deliberately. He had a bottle of firewhisky and was knocking back shot after shot, washing them down with beer. He waited until Harry sat down in the booth, and then put up a charm to make their conversation difficult to overhear.

 

"What happened?" Harry asked.

 

"Nothing. Everything." Ron drank another whisky and took a sip of lager. "You and my sister are getting a divorce."

 

"Yeah, but that's old news," Harry said.

 

"Hermione said she kicked you out," Ron said.

 

"Yeah." Harry shrugged miserably. "I wouldn't have left."

 

"But you like blokes."

 

"Yeah, that's true, but I wouldn't have done anything about it."

 

"So she did you a favor."

 

Harry poured a drink for himself, and sniffed it. "I wouldn't say that."

 

Ron looked at the table and then ruffled Harry's hair. "Sorry, mate." Harry drank. It burnt going down, and his head felt fuzzy.

 

"I liked being part of your family," Harry said.

 

Ron frowned. "You are part of my family."

 

"It's not the same."

 

"It bloody well is!" Ron smacked the table with an open palm. "I don't understand anything anymore."

 

Harry waited.

 

"So Hermione had this idea. For my birthday, she said, we'd do something exciting. Sexually."

 

"That does not sound like something you should--"

 

"Who'm I gonna tell, eh? You're like my brother."

 

"Would you tell this to one of your brothers?"

 

"Nah, they'd take the piss," Ron muttered into his drink. They would, too. You couldn't talk about sex with Ron's brothers. "You're sleeping with Snape, so you aren't going to say anything."

 

"Thanks Ron, you're a true friend."

 

"Look, no accounting for taste, right?" Now Ron really did start to cry a little. "Oh, Harry, man, I don't know what to do!" Tears spilled on his face and he wiped them with his sleeve and took a long pull on the beer. "See, she was having--well, let me--we had a threesome. With Luna Lovegood."

 

Harry nodded. "That sounds pretty hot."

 

"It does?"

 

"Two women together? Yeah!"

 

Ron looked at him considering. "I wasn't sure you would still--"

 

Harry shrugged. "Not like I've stopped, you know. Liking girls."

 

Ron nodded, taking this in. "I didn't know."

 

"It's not like we always talk about--"

 

"Sex, yeah." Ron took another drink. "Which is fine, as you were married to my sister."

 

"Right. Anyway. Women together. I always liked--thinking about that." Harry knew his face was red, but Ron's was, too, so no harm done.

 

"It was hot, it's true. It was the hottest thing I've ever seen, when Luna first walked into the bedroom. She was wearing a dress, which I don't think I've ever seen on her, but she just took it right off and then she had on these stockings with old-fashioned suspenders and these _shoes_\--It was amazing. She was like, a fantasy."

 

"But it was Luna," Harry said. "She's kind of--" She's a bit barmy, he wanted to say, but they'd been through so much together in the war that he didn't want to say it.

 

"She's pretty," Ron said. "She has a nice smile and nice tits, and she just went right over to Hermione and kissed her, and it was the hottest thing I've ever--" He poured out another glass for Harry and clinked his own against it. "Cheers," he said, and drank.

 

Harry shivered as the heat of the drink blazed down his throat. He was going to get drunk way too fast.

 

"They were kissing and it was like a show for me. Or I thought so. Maybe not. Luna put her hands on Hermione's arse and I was so hard--"

 

Harry knew how he was, because Harry was too. His cock loved the idea of watching two other people kiss and touch each other. Their _breasts_ would touch each other.

 

"First they were kind of making out, and then Hermione got all bossy--but in a good way." Ron smiled. "She told Luna to bend over and suck my cock, and she started, you know, fucking her, with her fingers." Harry could feel the blood in his ears and his groin. It didn't help that Ron's voice was kind of thick and slurred. "She kept saying, 'Look, Ron. Look.' So I looked, right?"

 

Harry squirmed a little in his seat.

 

"Luna was smiling through the whole thing. She's always liked me, even in school--used to laugh at my jokes. It felt really friendly."

 

"Friendly!" Harry started laughing.

 

"Yeah! I mean, I love Hermione--I'm not really interested in being with anyone else. You know?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"But if we were acting something out, I felt like I could trust Luna." He put his head in his hands. "She climbed up on me and rode me. I mean, I fucked--I fucked her. I've never done that with--I mean, I've only ever done that with Hermione."

 

"But Hermione was there."

 

"Yeah, but still, it was--Hermione was even telling me what to do. It just, I don't know, Harry. It's not my thing. I'm not a swinger."

 

"Yeah."

 

"It was really good, though." Ron took another drink, and stared into his glass. "I liked it. Hermione kept making me change positions, and it felt like it went on for an hour. In the end I was doing Hermione while she did Luna. Luna was saying all these dirty things and Hermione was moaning and it was totally intense."

 

Harry nodded. He could picture that. He couldn't _stop_ picturing that. He didn't want to think about his friends that way, but it was so easy to imagine Ron's pumping buttocks, Luna spread out, Hermione's hair all over her thighs. He took another sip of his drink.

 

Ron went on. "But then I was thinking that Hermione seemed to know a lot about Luna. I mean, like, what she--what she likes, and--"

 

"She probably just interviewed her beforehand, you know how thorough--"

 

"No," Ron said. "No. Afterward, we had some tea and Luna spelled it all out for me. They've been having an affair."

 

"Oh." Harry took another pull on his drink. It was hard to imagine Hermione with Luna Lovegood. "Do they even get on?"

 

Ron shrugged. "Dunno. Hermione wants her to move in with us."

 

"What?"

 

"Yeah, she thinks that's best."

 

"Do you want to live with Luna? What will your parents say?"

 

Ron started to laugh. "I thought of that, too! See, you are one of us now. That's just what one of my brothers would have said."

 

"Can't believe we're almost forty and we still care about that."

 

"Still? It's not like we cared at all when we were younger!"

 

"Yeah," Harry said. "You had tea? That's weird, Ron."

 

Ron nodded. "I don't want to share Hermione with someone else." He looked into his drink.

 

"Were you at your house, or Luna's?"

 

"Luna's. She made us some sandwiches, too."

 

Harry leaned back against the pub booth. "Wow. Sandwiches."

 

"_You're_ sleeping with Snape."

 

"Yeah, all right, enough about that." He could do with seeing Snape right now.

 

"You embarrassed?"

 

"You want me to kiss and tell on Severus Snape?" Harry laughed. "Not a good idea."

 

"Point." Ron poured and drank another shot and then took a deep pull on his pint. "Ah," he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Fuck it. Do you love him? Snape?"

 

Harry shrugged. "Yeah. He's brilliant." He took another drink. He was smaller than Ron and there was no way he could keep up with him. His tongue was already numb and he felt giddy and high.

 

"But you're not kissing and telling--"

 

"Ron," Harry said. "The man can fly without a broom. He's got amazing magic, and he knows a lot."

 

"You love him because he knows a lot?"

 

"Says the man who married Hermione Granger." They both started to laugh. Ron was really red in the face, and threw his arm around Harry.

 

"You married my sister," Ron said.

 

"That's the other thing about Snape," Harry said. "He's got a lot of flaws. He's not like Ginny."

 

"Ginny doesn't have flaws? What?"

 

"I mean...not like that. Ginny has flaws. She's just--she grew up normal."

 

"Normal!" Ron guffawed.

 

"Snape knows what it's like to be--I mean. He knows what it's like." Harry knew he wasn't making sense.

 

"What?"

 

"When no one loves you. He understands that."

 

"You're drunk."

 

"You're right!" Harry smiled broadly. "You're right! I'm drunk! Did you know that meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me?"

 

"Really?"

 

"Happiest day of my life," Harry said. Ron was crying. "And when my children were born." Harry realized he was crying, too, but they were both drunk, so it didn't really matter.

 

There was a knock on the door to the booth. "Harry?"

 

"Come in," Harry said, wiping his face on his sleeve.

 

It was Luna Lovegood. She was wearing jeans and t-shirt, which was a relief. Harry didn't think he could take the shock of Luna in a dress.

 

The t-shirt said, "A Witch Needs a Wizard Like a Fish Needs a Firebolt."

 

"Hi Luna," Ron said, looking down and blushing.

 

"Hermione was a bit worried about you," Luna said. "I told her you were probably going to get drunk and talk about your feelings with Harry, but she was fretting anyway."

 

"What's your t-shirt mean, Luna?" Harry asked.

 

She looked down. "Something about men and women, I think. A former lover gave it to me. It's nice, isn't it? I like the fish on the broomstick. She didn't like my clothes much, or my hair. The problem with lovers is they always want to change you."


	10. Looking Like Our Parents

**Looking Like Our Parents**

 

 

Harry woke up not sure where he was. He'd been having another dream about someone he loved getting killed. He had those dreams all the time, since it had happened more than once. The sound of weeping penetrated his sleep and made him think, "Is it Albus? I'd better go to him." He sat up in the bed, hand on wand, pulse racing, same as always.

 

But it wasn't the same. He wasn't in bed with Ginny. It wasn't his house. The divorce. Albus was a teenager.

 

He rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses. He was at Ron's house in one of the children's bedrooms. Right, they'd been out drinking and he must have come home with Ron. Had he really had that much? He stretched and got out of bed.

 

In the hallway, Luna Lovegood was sitting on the floor, crying.

 

"Is that you, Luna," he asked inanely. Right.

 

"Oh hi Harry," she said. He sat down next to her and she leaned her head against him and sniffled. "Did you ever make a very bad mistake?"

 

"Of course."

 

"I think I did that," Luna said. Tears continued to roll out of her large blue eyes. She looked a little like a baby doll that his daughter had that you fed water in a bottle and she cried and cried--same flat blue eyes, too. "It's not a good idea to fall in love with someone because they remind you of your mum. I didn't mean you," she said.

 

"I know, I mean," Harry said. His face was hot.

 

"Any road, Professor Snape is more like your dad than your mum."

 

Harry leaned back against the wall. "Don't tell him that."

 

Luna smiled. "I don't think he's going to let me see him," she said. "He didn't like me so well as he liked you."

 

Harry snorted. "He never liked me."

 

"Well, loved you then."

 

"Why do you think he loved me?"

 

She shrugged. "He was always looking for you, at school, in the Great Hall. He always looked to see where you were."

 

They sat together in the quiet of the house.

 

"It's Hermione who's like my mother," Luna said. "Not Ronald. He's like himself. I like him, you know."

 

"Yeah, I know."

 

"He was always funny, when we were at school, and he loves you, and he's Ginny's brother."

 

"You're tired. Why don't you go to bed?"

 

"I just don't think I should take Hermione away from her children," Luna said. "Because I hated it that I didn't have a mother." Her voice caught again.

 

Harry nodded. "Me too," he said unnecessarily, but Luna smiled at him through her tears.

 

"Yes, I liked it that you knew how I felt," she said. "And you were kind to me and wanted to be friends."

 

"We're friends now, too, Luna," Harry said.

 

"Ron wants me to stay," she said abruptly. "He was drunk, but I think it was true, what he said about that."

 

"He said he wants you to stay?"

 

"He said something like, 'Yeah, you're loony, but you're all right, and I want what Hermione wants, and anyway, you're all right,' and he kissed my forehead."

 

This hardly seemed to Harry like a ringing endorsement of a m age à trois, but he just kept nodding, the way he did when one of his children was trying to talk his way out of tears. Luna sighed.

 

"I was in Rose's room," she said, "and I saw all the little girl things, and thought I hadn't considered what it would be like for her. I usually can think about how other people will feel."

 

"You think about it?" Harry turned this over for a minute. "It always seemed like part of your magic."

 

"No," she said, smiling. "My feelings were always a little different from everyone else's, so I put my faith in thinking to understand how they feel. I wish it came with my magic. It's why I always seem a bit barmy and off."

 

"It worked well with me," Harry said. "You were really good to me when Sirius died, and you knew what to say about Dobby, and during the battle, and after, also."

 

"I did the opposite of you," Luna said. She hugged her knees to her chest and leaned her cheek on the top of one knee. "You always think about what you missed when you were a child, and you try to give it to other people, right?"

 

"Something like that."

 

"I thought about what I missed when I was a child and tried to take it away from three other people to get it for myself. Not that Hermione is my mother. I just mean--I wanted her all to myself, like an infant." She thought for a minute. "I should go home and sleep in my own bed."

 

"Should I take you?" Harry said.

 

"No, I'm not drunk anymore. I cry when I'm not drunk," Luna said.

 

The bedroom door opened and Hermione burst out, hair wild and breasts showing very clearly through her nightgown. "Luna, don't leave," she said. "Don't leave."

 

"Did you hear us?" Luna asked.

 

"No, but Ron just explained that he tucked you into Rose's bed."

 

Tucked her in! No wonder he kissed her forehead. Harry started to laugh. He wondered if Ron had done the same with him. Too bad he'd passed out.

 

"Come to bed," Hermione said. She pulled Luna up off of the floor and into her arms.

 

"Not me," Harry said, but they weren't listening, just embracing, their eyes shut, precious to one another.

 

Harry was lonely and wanted to go home. A silvery doe tripped into the room on legs of light. "Where are you?" Harry said. The doe tilted her head in a familiar gesture of annoyance. That was what Snape wanted to know.

 

Harry Summoned his wand and cast his Patronus. The stag and the doe sniffed each other in the air. Their necks twined around one another for a moment. It was graceful. They paused--the stag reared--and then both Patronuses ran away from him.

 

Snape Apparated into the hallway.

 

"I was just out drinking," Harry said. "I wound up here because I got very drunk."

 

"You're not accountable to me," Snape said.

 

"But you came looking for me."

 

"You don't use a telephone," Snape said.

 

"I would never be unfaithful to you," Harry said.

 

"Oh shut up," Snape said. "I don't care what you do, or who you do." Harry snickered. It wasn't true, he was sure, but it was funny. Snape looked smug, as he always did whenever he made a joke.

 

"All right, if you don't care," Harry said. He snuck his arms around Snape's body. "I'll do you, then."

 

"You're an auror," Snape said abruptly.

 

"Yeah," Harry said. "I suppose I have a dangerous job."

 

"I suppose you could make selling shoes into a dangerous job," Snape said.

 

"I'm not like that anymore," Harry said. "I have children now. I'm careful. Sorry that I didn't let you know where I was." Snape nodded once. How many years had Snape been checking up on him? "You just like to know where I am, right?"

 

"Nothing that deliberate, Potter."

 

"I want--can we get out of here?"

 

"You don't feel the need to say goodbye?"

 

"What is it, 4AM?" Harry looked around.

 

Snape pursed his lips.

 

Harry wove their fingers together. "Would you come home with me?"

 

"I'll Apparate," Snape said. He was smooth about it--they were back in Harry's little flat when Harry opened his eyes.

 

"You haven't been doing magic," Harry said. Snape didn't say anything. It was true that he hadn't seen Snape wave a wand or perform a spell in months. "Did I ruin something?"

 

"No."

 

"Are you going to eat cooked food too now?"

 

"No."

 

"And meat?"

 

"Potter."

 

"Why do you still call me by my surname?" What a hypocrite, when he couldn't even think "Severus," much less say it. It was all he could do to drop the "Professor."

 

"What would you like me to call you, love?" He said it casually, as though he didn't mean it, with that slightly sardonic inflection--with breathtaking tenderness.

 

Harry's heart skipped. Snape withdrew his hand.

 

"I--" Harry said. He reached for the hand. "Love is good."

 

"What now?"

 

"Did you ever call my mother that? Love?" Harry said it to Snape's foot. He was wearing trainers. Weird.

 

"What are you asking?"

 

"'Cause I would be okay with it if you only--"

 

"What? If I only loved you because of her?"

 

"I know you think I'm an idiot--"

 

"Yes I do."

 

"Could we go to bed now please? If you don't mind I'd like to do you." Snape snorted, but when Harry kissed him he could feel Snape's erection pressing against his thigh. "Will you call me that while I'm sucking you off?"

 

"No," Snape said.

 

"Please, love," Harry said, and Snape pressed against him with a soft sound.

 

"Bed," Snape said, "Unless you want to do it on the living room floor." Harry dropped to his knees and began mouthing Snape through his trousers. "Right," Snape said, his voice a little strangled. Harry opened his flies and got Snape's cock into his mouth.

 

Snape's legs were trembling a little with the effort of standing up. "Why do you like this, Harry?" he said.

 

Harry had to stop sucking to answer. "It--I like the way you make noises and--you smell good."

 

Snape nodded.

 

"Was that not a good reason?" Harry asked.

 

"Are you afraid that I'll leave you?"

 

Harry couldn't answer. Snape looked down into his face and got down on the floor where Harry was kneeling and sat cross-legged, so they could see eye to eye.

 

"Everyone leaves," Harry said.

 

"Yes," Snape said. Of course he understood about that.

 

"I like to suck your cock because apparently I like to suck cock," Harry said, "You have a big beautiful cock and I like it."

 

"But it could be anyone's."

 

"No, it's because it's yours and I can't stop thinking that you're hard for me. You haven't come in my mouth once and I keep hoping you will." He put his hand on Snape's cock and just felt it, warm and alive.

 

"God yes," Snape said. "I want to take you to bed and fuck you all night."

 

Harry bent over his lap and got Snape's prick back into his mouth, and opened his own trousers. Snape lay down on the floor. When his cock slid out of Harry's mouth, they both made a disappointed sound, and Harry said, "Keep talking. Keep telling me what you want to do to me." Harry reclined on his side so that he could suck and wank at the same time.

 

"I want to fuck you," Snape said. "Oh God. I want to fuck your arse hard, so that you groan. I want you to scream because you come so hard on my cock."

 

Harry wanked faster.

 

"Spread your legs, I want to suck you too," Snape said. He got them into a sixty-nine position. It was heaven--his mouth was warm and wet, and his cock moved eagerly between Harry's lips. Harry moaned around his cock. Snape stroked his balls and worked his fingers into Harry's arse.

 

Snape took his mouth off and said, "I'm going to come, I'm going to come in your mouth now, love. I'm going to come," and he did, and Harry tasted him, and heard him, and felt his own balls draw up.

 

"Oh yes," he said, "please," and Snape took him back into his mouth and fucked him with his fingers, and Harry came, thrusting down into Snape's mouth.

 

He could feel his arse clutching Snape's fingers for minutes afterward as he twitched and jerked. Then Snape pulled his fingers out.

 

"Thanks," Harry said. He got up awkwardly, pulling up his clothes. He knew he shouldn't thank Snape for making him come. Even when he was married he never knew what to say, and would turn over and pretend to sleep. He didn't want to say "I love you," because it sounded stupid to say that after sex, even though he felt it, that thrumming sense of "good, good, good," down to his bones. He wanted to sleep in Snape's orbit, to smell him on the sheets and to feel close and whole. "Could you--would you like to stay?"

 

"Yes thank you," Snape said softly.

 

"I'll make you whatever you like for breakfast."

 

Snape looked at him. "I don't think that will be a problem," he said.


End file.
